Hunting
by contentiously
Summary: Ichigo's a boy that leaves society to live in the oasis of a forest, dyeing his hair to remain obscure. And a hunter, Grimmjow, sparks his curiosity. And somehow, being with him the rough man seems so much better.


AN:/ Here's a oneshot. It's a bit of a strange idea, I hope you'll enjoy it~ Please review. /desperate

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><p>The forest was something like an oasis for Ichigo. He hadn't really enjoyed his few years outside, in that dreadful and judgmental society. He had escaped and found his rightful home here. His hair had been messily dyed from the random fruits and such found around the area. It was brown, slightly purple, and really quite easy to rub off. Ichigo hadn't minded that. He just kept applying any sort of dark color to his hair, because his orange hair would be the death of him in the malicious forest. He absolutely hated his hair. The orange was something of a curse for him. No one else had it, and it stuck out like a rabbit in a pack of slugs. And the forest was dangerous. The orange caught the light of the penetrating sunlight, which gave a signal to all hostile creatures to maul the innocent Ichigo. He wore tattered rags, of drab brown and grey and with loose strings all around. He had thought to grab something new, but the idea of getting out of the forest and into the strange land of humans and getting whatever he could from the thin strings that those humans hung their clothes on wasn't quite appealing to him. Deep in thought and feeling just a little tired and full from the berries he had grabbed earlier, he heard a sudden, loud, and nasty noise.<p>

Bang! Bang! A thump followed afterwards. Ichigo's sharpened ears listened closely for the source of the noise. It sounded dangerous. But Ichigo always liked thrills, and plus he was always curious. So he quietly walked to the noise, with the Bang! Bang!ing continuing in the background with the slight rustle of dried leaves on Ichigo's bare feet to accompany. He reached the source.

There was a man, with an angry scowl on his face and a rough, tan hand on the trigger of a gun. Ichigo had heard of guns before, although he hadn't touched one himself. He heard that if the trigger was pulled, things got injured and some got killed. And looking at the man, the information was apparently true. The trigger was pulled, and things got injured and most got killed. A halo of dead birds surrounded the tall man, who was started to sweat. The sun was quite warm. Bang! Bang!

And then the man turned around, an eyebrow raised. The blue eyes immediately reached Ichigo's brown ones. And they narrowed. But then the man turned around, and continued to shoot at the plethora of birds flying above. Ichigo continued to stare for a good thirty minutes, and the sky began to become darker and darker. Then all the birds were gone. The halo was increased by two – no, three – times. The man was finally finished. He turned again, looked at Ichigo, and his eyes widened.

"The fuck? You're still here?" Ichigo didn't know how to answer. He thought it was quite obvious that he was there.

"I guess. I'm Ichigo. It's rare to see someone here. The forest is normally scary," Ichigo said, his mind trying to formulate a well-organized response. He thought it was quite good.

"Grimmjow here. And no. The forest is quite calm, really. And what are you wearing? That looks like a paper towel. Except gray," was the response. The voice was harsh but Ichigo decided his ears liked it.

"It's what I have."

"Damn. Come with me, I'll give you something. Collect these stupid geese for me, though."

And so Ichigo went on his knees and collected the geese, putting them into a brown bag and forcing the bag into a large truck the man had. Ichigo didn't know why he listened to the man. There was just some enticing pull to his words. And Ichigo, as said before, was quite curious.

The man took off his brown cap. And from it, spilled out soft locks of bright blue. Ichigo had some need to touch it. He liked the color. But it wouldn't be good in the jungle, just like his. Ichigo patted his own hair. A bit of the dye came off on his tanned hand. Sighing, he wished to be back with the berries and trees. But a part of him didn't.

And so Ichigo was forced into some large, unfitting clothes that the Grimmjow had. They felt comforting, though. Like a mother's embrace. Which Ichigo hadn't felt, but he heard it was pleasant.

In a few hours, the man had prepared some dinner from the recently deceased geese Ichigo knew how to use forks from the few years had had lived in proper society, but he didn't usually like to. It just felt so wrong. He decided that he would use the proper utensils though, since the man was looking at him expectantly. Lifting up a silver fork (and thinking to himself that it was quite sharp), he dug it in and lifted it to his mouth. The man was actually quite a good cook; the geese were prepared and spiced very well. The taste danced in Ichigo's mouth. It was savory, and quite a step higher than the purple and blue berries, and rare meat, found in the bountiful forest. Forgetting temporarily that the man was watching, now with an amused expression, Ichigo helped himself to the remaining meat, eating a rather large amount.

The blue haired hunter just looked on, a slight expression of amusement on his face. He thought the boy, who had obviously dyed his hair, was adorable. It was a bit odd though; wasn't it strange to see a full-grown man in the woods? And soon bedtime arrived. Ichigo was satisfied with a completely filled – perhaps overflowing – stomach. Grimmjow less so, but he was content nonetheless. He didn't quite know what he was doing, it was unusual for him to even consider allowing someone to use his house's toilet, much less give a taste of his precious geese to a random stranger frolicking in the woods. He liked him; he was enticing and innocent.

Ichigo was given a large sweater to wear to sleep and some skimpy pants. The colors clashed terribly with his still purple and brown hair. Grimmjow made a somewhat comfortable bed created from spare blankets and a mattress that probably hadn't had fresh air in centuries. It'd work though, he reasoned. Ichigo had slept on the grassy, and probably scratchy, ground of the forest after all.

They settled down into the bed, Grimmjow quite a few feet up on his bed and Ichigo below. The lights were turned off, the conversation halted after a few sentences of thanks, and the two men were left to think. Ichigo felt happy. The man had been much nicer than he had initially thought. The smell of him, musky and manly, lingered on the frayed sweater he had on. He sniffed it. It smelled nice. He didn't want to leave the house, the nice food, or the blue haired man. He felt like he fit in, even more than the forest of greens. Grimmjow was thinking too. Deeply, in fact. It was quite rare for the straight-forward man. He thought that Ichigo would probably leave in the morning. Because his house wasn't that spectacular and the dinner with the overly large amount of pregnant silences couldn't have been pleasing either. And somehow in the midst of all the thinking, both men fell asleep.

The morning light wasn't bright and it didn't reflect off the window like in most stories. Instead, it was glum and gray and just there. Both men had a hard time getting up. Both men lingered in bed for over thirty minutes. And then they opened their mouths.

"Can I – ?"

"You can – .."

Both men started at the exact same time, and stopped at the same time as well. Another awkward silence hung in the air. Then Ichigo continued.

"Can I stay here? I think I like it."

He didn't like the way he said it, though. It was strange and forced and didn't roll quite right.

"Yeah. You can." And Grimmjow walked his body to the mattress below, and settled down; leaning on the bed he had just left. He raised a tan hand to the dull locks of the thinner male, and scrapped a bit of the dye off. It was orange. A bit surprising, the dye had actually worked quite well.

"I like your hair," Grimmjow said. It too stayed in the atmosphere for much too long. Ichigo wordlessly touched Grimmjow's. It wasn't as soft as he thought; it instead had a more masculine feel to it. But he enjoyed the sensation of it rubbing against his fingers nonetheless. And they stayed there, the floor decidedly becoming uncomfortable, the sun still hiding and the clouds still gray. It felt just like heaven.

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><p>Anyway. It's a bit incomplete, I know. I might edit itmake a better ending. Or maybe add another chapter of lemon, but it doesn't quite seem to fit, right? Give me your opinions, please? If there are any mistakes, I'll be happy to correct them. I'm still pretty new to this. And I'm working on the length of my stories~


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